Page 43 of Grumpy Alien Boss

My heart races as he strides past the living room, past the kitchen, straight toward the special room we haven't christened yet. The anticipation builds with each step.

"Finally going to break in the play room?" I try to keep my voice steady despite my mounting excitement.

"Past time, don't you think?" His hand caresses where he spanked, sending shivers down my spine.

The door clicks open. Even upside down, I catch glimpses of leather and chrome in the dim lighting. All those delicious implements we picked out together but haven't had a chance to use, what with saving the world from shape-shifting aliens and all.

"Put me down, you brute." I squirm halfheartedly against his grip.

"As you wish." He sets me on my feet inside the room, steadying me as the blood rushes back to my head.

My breath catches as I take in the full view - the padded bench, the suspension rig, walls lined with floggers and cuffs and other wicked toys. The air feels charged with possibility.

"Tonight, I make you mine. Utterly." Dar's voice drops to a growl that makes my knees weak.

His scaled hands slide around my waist from behind, the warmth of his body pressing against my back. I tilt my head to the side as his lips brush the nape of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. My breath catches as his fingers trail up my sides, undressing me with deliberate slowness.

“You’re always in such a hurry,” I murmur, my voice already uneven as he peels my blouse away, his fingertips grazing my skin.

“And you talk too much,” he growls, his lips finding the curve of my shoulder. His tongue flicks against my skin, the sensation making me gasp.

I reach back, my fingers tangling in the thick ridge of his neck, anchoring myself as his hands work their way to the clasp of my bra. The cool air of the room hits my bare chest, and I let out a soft groan as his hands cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples.

“You’re insufferable,” I say, though my voice is more breath than words.

“And yet, here you are.” His chuckle vibrates against my skin as he unfastens my skirt, letting it pool at my feet. His hands slide down my hips, his scales rough and smooth at once, a contrast that makes my skin hum.

I twist in his arms, breaking free of his grasp, and turn to face him. His red eyes glint with amusement as I reach for the buttons of his shirt. My fingers fumble slightly, but he doesn’t help, just watches me with that smug smirk of his.

“So impatient,” he teases as I finally get the shirt open and push it off his shoulders. His torso is a map of black and red scales, the muscles beneath rippling with even the slightest movement.

“You’re one to talk,” I shoot back, my hands moving to his belt. The leather slides free with a softclick, and I drop it to the floor. My fingers hook into the waistband of his trousers, and I glance up at him, my lips curving into a sly smile.

“What?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” I say, dragging his pants down his legs. His cock springs free, and I don’t hesitate, dropping to my knees and taking the tip into my mouth. The taste of him is warm and salty, and I hear his sharp intake of breath above me.

“Liv,” he growls, his hand tangling in my hair.

I hum against his skin, teasing the sensitive crown with my tongue, and he lets out a low, rumbling sound that makes my whole body heat up. His grip tightens, and I know I’ve got him right where I want him—completely at my mercy.

His hips twitch, and he lets out a low, guttural growl as he spills into my mouth. I don’t pull back, don’t falter. Instead, I swallow every drop, my eyes locked on his. His red gaze burns into me, and I let him see it—the way I relish this, the way I crave him. His approval, his dominance, his everything.

“Good girl,” he rumbles, his voice rough and thick with satisfaction. His hand strokes my hair gently, and I shiver at the sound of those words. They always do something to me—unravel me, unravel my control.

I lean back on my heels, wiping the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “Good girl? That’s all I get? No standing ovation? No medal?”

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through me. “Don’t get cocky, Liv. You’re good, but you’re notthatgood.”

I smirk up at him, tilting my head. “Oh, I’m not? Because from where I’m kneeling, you seemed pretty impressed.”

His fingers tighten in my hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to make me acutely aware of his strength. “Impressed, maybe. But don’t think for a second you’re getting off easy tonight. You’ve still got discipline coming.”

I roll my eyes, though my heart skips a beat. “Discipline? Really? What did I do now? Breath too loudly? Exist too confidently?”

He drags me to my feet with a firm grip, his other hand already reaching for a length of rope coiled on the wall. “You’ve got a smart mouth, that’s what. And I’m going to make sure it’s put to better use.”

I snort, even as he starts looping the rope around my wrists, his movements precise and deliberate. “Better use? Like what? Singing your praises?”

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